Sensate Effect
by uglychui
Summary: Eight normal lives are thrown into disarray as everything that makes them who they are converges with one another. Together, they must work to understand the galaxy's greatest unknown while protecting themselves from those who would do them harm. Mass Effect/Sense8 crossover AU. No characters from Sense8 will actually be present- just the concept of it in the ME universe.
1. Nihlus

**Nihlus**

"Have you found him?" Smoke curled around him like a lover's embrace. He tapped his cigar on the arm of the chair, ashes crumbling down.

The holographic figure glanced at his datapad. "Yes, sir. Our reports have placed him in the Sentry Omega cluster. They lost connection when he entered the cluster, but they're certain he's there."

The man in the chair brought the cigar to his lips and took a puff. "Form a blockade around the mass relay in the Attican Beta and around the Sentry Omega cluster. Send men to comb its planets. I want to know exactly where he is."

"Yes, sir. I'll have them ship out immediately. Wilson out." The hologram fizzed out.

He took another puff and crossed his leg over his knee. "Where will you run to now, Spectre?"

* * *

 _SA: He's got me cornered, Nihlus. This… this might be the last time._

His blood ran cold upon reading his mentor's message. His legs acted instantly, striding towards the elevator, practically knocking aside C-Sec officers going on about their day. Their resulting curses and insults easily brushed aside, he pressed the button to the docking bay. The elevator, ignorant of his urgency, rose at a leisurely pace. He brought up his omnitool and typed in a frenzy.

 _NK: Where are you?_

A reply came almost instantly.

 _SA: Nowhere you can get to in time. He's already here._

He ran to his ship the second the elevator doors slid open.

 _NK: Where?!_

No reply.

"Dammit, Saren!" He paced back and forth as the airlock lifted and barged in. As the ship's VI announced the start of the decontamination process, he punched the wall and roared in annoyance. His omnitool pinged.

 _SA: Don't look him in the eyes. That's how he finds you._

Confused by the reply, he clicked his tongue impatiently and had been heading towards the cockpit to input a destination code to _somewhere_ when he noticed a figure standing in the darkness of his ship. He pulled his pistol out of its holster and pointed it at the intruder.

"Who—" he began before his eyes adjusted and found himself face to face with none other than Saren.

"What…?" Suddenly, he wasn't in his ship anymore. He was standing on sand the color of his markings, surrounded by crystal clear water and mountainous terrain covered in flora. And, bent over, gripping the wall of the mountain was Saren. He raised his arm to reach for him when Saren took out a pistol and placed the barrel under his chin.

And pulled the trigger.

He froze in shock, and even before Saren's body hit the ground, he found himself back in his ship, his arm still extended.


	2. Tali

**Tali**

 _Omega. Keelah, I_ hate _Omega._

Tali tiptoed in the shadows of the ship, glancing over her shoulder. She silently cursed the dim orange glow of her activated omnitool, hoping it wouldn't give her away.

 _Great job, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. You've smuggled yourself onto a ship to Omega of all places. Well done, you_ , she chastised herself.

Such a stupid mistake! She should have hacked their systems and checked their destination before jumping on. But her desperation for an easy ride had won over her caution.

She'd have to find another way off the bloody station.

She pressed her back along the wall of the airlock, sticking her head outside just a fraction to check for anyone who might be guarding the ship. Seeing no one, she took a tentative step out of the airlock, took one last look around, and sprinted off into the dark.

As she made a sharp turn into an isolated alleyway, she almost cracked her faceplate on the chest of a turian. She screeched to a stop and prepared to stutter out an apology, but the turian's intense stare cut her off.

Feeling threatened, Tali took a few steps back and fell into what she desperately hoped was a fighting stance, her omnitool raised in defense.

The turian was huge, like all turians were to her, but the blue glow of his cybernetic eyes and the tubes lining his torso enhanced his… _Omega-ness_.

She was terrified, but she wasn't going down in Omega without a fight.

Her fingers flew to her omnitool to summon Chatika, but stopped midway when she realized she was no longer surrounded by the stench of trash and eezo. She looked down to find her feet digging into fine sand, the serene sound of water behind her.

She jerked her head up at the sound of a gun being pulled from its holster and froze. The turian, now leaning on the wall of the mountain, had a pistol pointed under his chin. Before she could even think to react, he fired.

A strangled gasp escaped her as she instinctively shut her eyes and covered her ears. When she opened her eyes, she was back on Omega with no trace of the turian.

Spooked, she backed away from the alleyway and darted off in the opposite direction, going as far as her feet could carry her.

Sleep eluded her that night.


	3. Shepard

**Shepard**

A pleading, drawn out groan echoed throughout the small ship. Shepard hobbled out of her quarters, palming her temple.

"Please, not now," she begged. Her ship groaned again in response. "I promise, first thing on Omega, I'll get you some new parts. Just—please stop. This migraine is _killing_ me."

As if placated, the ship remained silent and Shepard made a beeline for the galley, hoping to hell she had migraine medication. She rummaged through the cupboards and practically sang when she found the bottle. She chucked two pills— for good measure— into her mouth and followed it with a glass of water. She sank into a chair, her throbbing head on the cool table.

Her eyes wandered to the corner of the galley, where she had seen the turian blow his brains out late last night.

 _What the hell_ was _that?_ she wondered. She couldn't be sure if she had actually seen it or dreamt it. The area was free of any kind of blood and the cameras showed no one on board but herself. It had seemed too real to be a dream and yet, evidence suggested otherwise.

She shook her head. "C'mon, get it together. You've got a deal to close." Taking a deep breath, she pushed her chair out and pulled up her omnitool.

Almost 0900. Eight more hours until the meet. She'd be landing on Omega in two—more than enough time to scout the meeting place and prepare.

She wolfed down a handful of ration bars and tapped out a message.

 _S: Wanna be my scary krogan sidekick?_

She entered her quarters and pulled off her loose clothing, replacing them with a simple black undersuit. She pulled her thick, raven curls up into a tight bun— a habit developed during her Alliance days that she'd never been able to break— and forced stray curls down with pins. Her omnitool pinged.

 _UW: On a job. Go bother someone else._

She shrugged and typed out a reply.

 _S: Your loss. I've been told my company rivals that of Sha'ira the Consort._

She smirked at the instant ping.

 _UW: Were they about to die and begging for mercy?_

 _S: Only one of them._

She donned her armor—charcoal black with purple stripes running down her front and arms—and grabbed her Mattock assault rifle and Carnifex pistol. She debated on bringing her Mantis along but decided against it, not wanting to add on too much weight.

Satisfied with her choice of weapons, she settled on her rugged bed and methodically took the guns apart, beginning the process of cleaning and maintenance. If the deal went south, she'd need her guns in top condition.

Then again, only a simple-minded fool would bring faulty weapons onto Omega.


	4. Miranda

**Miranda**

For the first time since her escape, Miranda questioned her sanity. She'd always been logical and realistic. Her ability to incorporate those traits into her work was what landed her her job in Cerberus, working alongside Wilson.

It was a fulfilling job, researching strange mutations in the genes. It was fascinating how even centuries after its discovery, DNA effortlessly continued to evolve and baffle. The work was exhilarating. She could no longer imagine _not_ doing this job.

And then somehow, Saren Arterius shot himself in her lab, with no empirical proof that he had been there at all. She had the fleeting thought to report the phantom suicide, but if she was questioning her sanity, then they certainly would. Since then, she'd had a splitting migraine that no medication could cure.

She was rubbing her temples when Wilson marched in, datapad in hand.

"Miranda, we've got one."

Distracted, she mumbled, "One what?"

He handed her the datapad. "A gentic sample. Turian. It should be delivered here in just a couple of hours."

Interest piqued, she dropped her hands and stared at him curiously with a raised eyebrow. "Turian? We've never had a turian sample before. Why now?"

"Does it really matter?" he snapped quickly. Miranda's eye twitched; he knew something. "You have your sample. Now do your job." With that, he walked out, thankfully taking with him his air of superiority.

Miranda glared at his retreating figure and her biotics sparked at her fingertips. "Asshole."

She begrudgingly grabbed the datapad and glanced at the dossier. And found nothing there. That _rat_! She pushed her chair back with a screeching drag and stalked off after Wilson.

"Wilson!" she called after him. "Wilson!" He had the nerve to ignore her. Her impatience for him peaked and she flung out a Pull with more force than was necessary, refusing to close the distance herself. When his limp body reached her, she held him in place with her biotics.

"What are you doing, Miranda?!" he sputtered, panic lacing his words. The corner of her lips curled up ever so slightly. He was always such a pansy when it came to direct confrontation.

With eerie calm, she stepped in front of him, her heels clicking on the steel floor. "My patience is running thin today, so it would be fairly smart to answer when I ask." He vigorously nodded his head, eyes wide in fear. "Why does this subject not have a dossier? I'm under no illusion; I know our subjects aren't volunteers. But they _always_ have a dossier. So, where's this one?"

"I don't—" Her other hand flared in warning. "The Illusive Man didn't officially provide one!"

"Why? Who's the subject?" she prodded.

Wilson glared at her. "He'll kill me if I tell. And I'm not about to give my life up for _you_."

She cracked a small smile. "Fair enough." Her biotics released him and Wilson stumbled back, straightening his clothes.

He shot her a look and practically ran off, mumbling something about "crazy bitch". She watched coolly as he ran, brows furrowed.

 _Just a couple more hours._


	5. Thane

**Thane**

 _Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, my feet swift. And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness._

His biotics shot out and connected with the human's forearm, forcibly turning her gun away from him and breaking her form. He dashed forward and the force of his fist collided with her sternum, the sudden pain making her hunch over and gasp desperately for breath. Her eyes widened, following Thane as he spun around her and stopped at her back. He reached over her shoulders to wrap his hands around her mouth and the back of her skull, ignoring the shaking of her shoulders and her hoarse whispers: "No… no, please, I don't want to—!" He twisted his hands and, with a sickening crunch, she slumped over into his waiting arms. He laid her down gently onto the marble floor and stood, head bowed and hands clasped.

 _Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness…_

* * *

As Thane made his way through the rowdy Illium markets, his omnitool pinged. He sighed inwardly. It seemed like the jobs never ceased.

When he arrived at the door to his hotel room, he brought up his omnitool and ran an intricate scanning program, searching and rendering any surveillance within a five-meter radius useless, as he input the pin to his door. He kept the program running as he entered the room, observing every detail to ensure his room hadn't been tampered with.

When he was confident that the area was pristine, he took a seat on the couch, opened the message, and was faced with an image of a chestnut-colored turian with white skull-like markings. He recognized the target instantly and could not help blinking in surprise. His eyes skimmed through the terms and conditions and paused at the overall objective of the contract.

 _Incapacitate and capture Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik alive by any means necessary. Location of delivery will be disclosed upon confirmation of his capture._

He read the contract again and deleted all traces of it from his omnitool. Leaning forward and clasping his hands over his knees, he recalled the vision of Spectre Arterius' suicide. Perhaps the capture of Spectre Kryik had something to do with it?

His curiosity compelled him to accept the contract. He'd never hunted a Spectre down before. Nevertheless, it would be thrilling to finally have a target that wasn't a corrupt businessperson. He made for his bed and crouched down to retrieve his rifle case from underneath. It was already in top-notch condition, but one could never be too sure.

As he sat down, his senses screamed at him, alerting him to a new presence behind him. Not wasting a second, he spun around with a raised biotic fist.

And saw a human woman with dark brown skin, almost a nightly shade, donned in black underarmor. Surrounding her were pieces of what he recognized was a Mattock assault rifle. Had it not been for the leisurely way she seemed to clean her rifle— and even the way she sat on his bed with no concern— he would have struck her without question.

In his rare moment of hesitation, the woman's head jerked up, eyes wide in confusion and alert. She bolted from the bed and pulled a Carnifex pistol from her holster, aiming it at his face. A Carnifex would be fatal, surely, but he'd already thought of a dozen ways to send her to the shore if he needed to.

"Who are you and how did you get on board my ship?" she demanded. She glanced around the room and her frown deepened before her eyes flew back to his. "Scratch that— where the hell am I?"

Any other day, Thane would have attacked her. But he couldn't shake off a strange feeling— a sense of familiarity, closeness… of being present and yet… not present.

 _Like the morning he saw Spectre Arterius._

He quietly regarded the woman barely holding on to her composure. Taking a leap of faith, he answered, "As someone of my particular profession, I cannot tell you my name, much less my whereabouts. Perhaps if you would disclose your name…?"

She seemed to ponder before nodding. "Shepard. And because of _my_ profession, I don't feel comfortable disclosing much else either, other than the fact that just seconds ago, I was on my ship and now I'm here."

And before he could answer in return, she vanished.


End file.
